


Belts and Buttons

by Almost_Fair



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Belly Kink, Chubby Barba, Chubby Kink, Feeder Sonny, Insecure Barba, M/M, Stuffing, Teasing, Tight Clothing, Weight Gain, belly appreciation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Fair/pseuds/Almost_Fair
Summary: As a result of Sonny's kink, Barba outgrows his suits faster than he can afford to get them altered. Having to go to work waistcoatless and wearing a belt does nothing to improve the ADA's mood.





	1. Elevated Problems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silential](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silential/gifts).



> Please check the tags. If it's not your thing, I get that, just don't read it, you probably won't get much enjoyment out of it.  
> Just a heads up, there is not likely to be any sexual explicit chapters, so if that's what you came here for, I am sorry.  
> And finally, I apologise in advance for the bad writing and, if present, the grammar, spelling and tense issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first in a fic I am writing for Silential as a thank you for all their help. More chapters will come as I have the time to plan and write them.  
> 

Without looking up from his phone, Barba forced his way into the crowded elevator. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he turned to face the elevator doors, failing to acknowledge any of the colleagues he’d just barged into. Apologies just lead to conversations and he hated unwanted social interaction at the best of times, let alone first thing in the morning. Not that anyone even tried to communicate with him. It wasn't exactly like his cold disposition won him many friends. It was also common knowledge among those he worked with that to attempt a conversation with the ADA before his second cup of coffee would lead to a less than satisfactory outcome. Even those closest to him seemed wary to approach him before his fourth cup.

Taking a brief respite from the phone screen, he noted with disgust that _every single_ button on the elevator wall was glowing at him. He made a mental note to ask Carmen what complete and utter _dipshit_ had the idea to construct a building with this many floors and only install two elevators. It was only as the elevator doors closed that he remembered the resolution he had made this morning about using the stairs. Great, yet another thing he had failed to do today and it wasn’t even 9 a.m.

Barba took a swig from the caramel latte in his other hand, enjoying the contrast of the sweet and bitter tastes. The warm liquid pooled in his stomach and eased the low ache present there. He knew it wasn’t going to help anything, skipping breakfast, but right now, he didn’t care.

Rafael Barba had been called many things over the years. Arrogant. Self-absorbed. Narcissistic. _An entitled arsehole_. None of them exactly bothered him, after all, they were usually spat at him by a defendant he had just secured the conviction of. Meticulously handcrafted and perfectly coordinated, his high-end style of fashion only contributed to the overall impression he was attempting to portray.

He very much doubted, however, that he radiated his typically cocky personality today, at least not while the roll of fat around his middle rested heavily upon his belt. Barba had been attempting to ignore the sensation of the leather brushing against his underbelly, but he could feel the edge of the metal buckle digging into the soft flesh there. It was bad enough the belt was practically cutting off circulation to his legs, but the scratching sensation was unbearable.

Rafael made sure to keep his eyes trained on his phone as he thought about how to lessen his discomfort. Ruling out a majority of his options due to his hands both currently being occupied and being surrounded by people he would have to face on a day to day basis, he only really had one choice.

Exhaling quietly, as not to alert those around him, he tightened his stomach muscles. He felt the strain on his ivory shirt lessen somewhat but his stomach only shrunk by a few inches, while most of his lower belly remained resting delicately upon the leather. After a few seconds, Barba exhaled. He blushed slightly at the realisation his stomach muscles were aching from the effort of holding his gut in. His belly resumed its previous position, a lip of fat surging forward to hang over the edge of the belt.

He had some difficulties breathing as his chest tightened at the feeling of his clothes once again struggling to contain his bulk. Attempting to distract himself from both his emotional and physical discomfort, Barba returned his attention to answering the numerous pointless emails he received daily. The coffee tasted almost sickeningly sweet as he finished the syrup-laden drink. The sweetness of the drink soon reminded him of Sonny, of course, and, despite his best efforts to forget it had even occurred, the events of that morning.

He hadn’t meant to snap at Sonny, he really hadn’t. It was just that finding out he couldn’t button the waistcoat of the largest suit he owned was not what he needed when he woke up this morning. To say it was entirely unexpected would be an insult to both his intellect and his own self-awareness, however, it still came as a shock when his midsection refused to allow the two sides of the waistcoat to even meet. Sure, he had realised it was getting snug before that, he practically had to stop breathing whenever he had sat down in it the previous week, but the buttons had still fastened.

Today, however, he was forced to endure the sight he usually masked with the thick and unforgiving material of his waistcoats. Glancing down momentarily, Barba mentally chastised himself for the way the thin material strained around the buttons of his shirt. He would have buttoned the matte black suit jacket if it didn't also make the prosecutor's recent expansion painfully obvious, instead opting to hide as many of the buttons as possible with a bright yellow tie.

To add insult to injury, there was also then the dress pants _incident_. There was no insult to one’s vanity quite like having to lie flat on your back while your partner forces you into dress pants that were loose just a few months ago. He was pretty sure the only reason the dress pants currently remained buttoned was that he had swapped his signature suspenders for a belt, to provide added support for the straining waistband. Usually, he kept away from belts as they only emphasised how far his stomach protruded but it wasn't exactly like he had many options. Turning up to court in a suit two sizes too small could be forgiven, Buchanan did it all the time. Losing a button in court, however, was not so easily forgotten and not a risk he was willing to take.

And while he understood Sonny couldn’t help it, he just snapped when he saw the effect this whole interaction had had on his boyfriend. A very flush Sonny had tried to calm him down but this only spurred on his rage. Outgrowing his 42” pants was a pretty good sign he was definitely passed chubby, so hearing his boyfriend describe him as such just increased his heart rate further. He understood that his shirts straining drove the detective wild but it didn’t have the same effect on him or his clearly amused colleagues. He didn’t have enough fingers to count on his hands how many times a defence attorney had remarked about how he was getting “soft” as of late. All of this didn’t stop, however, the feelings of guilt he felt when he remembered the look Sonny had on his face when Barba finally stormed out of the room.

Barba soon lost his train of thought when he noticed that the last few remaining people were rushing out of the open doors of the elevator. Lifting his head to look up from his phone, he glared at the elevator panel which informed him he still had two floors to stop at before he got to the 16th precinct. _Just Fantastic_. At least he was alone now though.

Slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket, he quickly checked to see if there was anyone about to enter the elevator before gently rubbing the soft part of his underbelly that had been pressing against the metal buckle. Finally getting some relief from the pain, he looked down momentarily at his bright yellow tie. He’d donned it in the hope it would cover the way the material around the buttons on his striped ivory shirt would gape when he eventually had to sit down. Moving his hand up, he began pulling at the shirt carefully, attempting in vain to get the garment to be less form fitting.

“Waistcoats shrunk in the wash again Rafael?” a familiar voice inquired. Suddenly noticing the presence beside him, his hands froze as he looked up to lock eyes with none other than Rita Calhoun. Her smirk told him everything he needed to know about what was going on her mind and he was _not_ in the mood for that right now. As if to taunt him, he heard the elevator doors close beside him. _Fuck_. He really wished he had taken the stairs now.

Refusing to show vulnerability in front of her, Barba straightened, rolling his shoulders back and letting his hands drop to his sides. “No guesses as to why you noticed.” He bit back, his expression equally as uninviting.

Rita’s smirk simply grew at this remark. The glint in her eyes told him that she knew she had him on the defensive. Closing the space between them, Rita turned her back to the CCTV camera. Barba eyed her warily, refusing to feel intimidated but remaining motionless nonetheless. She reached out her hand and pressed it gently into where his stomach overhung his belt. “Worried about losing a button today in court are we now, Mr Barba?”

His eyes widened at her actions. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her wrist and quickly removed it from his waist. The doors of the elevator slide open with a clunk and both of them looked out to check for any onlookers. When the coast appeared clear, Barba hissed in a low tone. “Keep your hands to yourself, Rita. I have a boyfriend. Remember?”

Rita held up her hands in mock surrender, though her smirk informed Barba that this was certainly not going to be the end of this conversation.

“And I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he added as the doors slid shut again, attempting to regain some of the composure he had lost during his outburst. His heart continued to race, the adrenaline increase fueled by both anger and shame in fairly equal measures.

“You are wearing a belt, for one thing, instead of your usual suspenders.” She paused, seemingly waiting for him to bite back. Getting nothing but an inquisitive look in response, she pressed on. “Now, I may not be a detective, but I don’t need to be Olivia Benson herself to work out your pants need the extra support, Rafi.”

If Barba wasn’t clenching his jaw so tightly, his mouth would have likely dropped open at that comment. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands, refusing to give the attorney the outburst she desired. Before he could compose himself enough to answer her, however, the doors in front of him clicked open and Rita had begun exiting the elevator. Looking over her shoulder as she strode out, she winked. “See you around Rafael.”

As the doors clunked shut, the ADA was left blushing and alone. Unfortunately for his fellow colleagues, he was in a decidedly worse mood then when he’d entered the building that morning, something he had thought was highly improbable only minutes earlier. But then again, Rita had always had a way of getting under his skin in a way even his mother was incapable of.

He got off at the next floor up, striding into the precinct. As he headed towards Liv’s office, he had no choice but to pass Sonny’s desk. The lanky blonde offered him a weak smile as the ADA passed. While Barba may have felt guilty about this morning, he suppressed that feeling with the wrath that Rita had rekindled in him. He simply glared back in reply, throwing his coffee cup into the bin with as much force as he could muster, before disappearing into Liv’s office. Sonny simply sunk down in response, getting the message loud and clear.

“Seems like you are having an effect on the Counsellor,” Amanda practically purred into his ear, making him physically jolt in surprise. He turned to see Amanda returning to her desk, sitting down in her seat with a thud and a smug look adorning her face. His eyes flicked to Finn who was sat at his desk, who luckily seemed to have missed Amanda’s comment.

Sonny stared at her with a pleading look on his face. Through gritted teeth, he strained to whisper “I don’t know what you are on about.”

“You don’t know why the Counsellor has changed his style recently?” Amanda said relatively loudly, causing Fin to look up, his eyes jumping between the two, as if expecting an explanation. Amanda bit on the end of the pencil in her hand as he turned her head to the side playfully, leaning back and squinting as the pair continued to maintain eye contact. Clearly, she wasn’t going to give up.

“Alright, Alright. Just lower your voice.” Sonny hissed, nodding towards Fin, who had returned his attention to his computer screen. Amanda nodded, pleased but not unsurprised to have gotten what she wanted. Even if Sonny had refused to cave then, he would have told her sooner or later.

Sonny exhaled audibly before checking once more that there was no one in earshot of their conversation. “My cooking and my tastes-"

“Your kink.” Amanda corrected, receiving a pointed glare from the detective opposite her.

“Yes, my _kink_ may have resulted in the ADA being... unable to button his waistcoat this morning.” A blush dusted Sonny’s cheeks as he broke the eye contact they had been maintaining to look over his shoulder.

While Sonny was largely unashamed of who he was, admitting his appreciation for Barba’s increasing size was not something he was, nor ever would be, comfortable doing. Very few people even knew about their relationship but he was pretty sure, being detectives, most of the SVU had figured it out one way or another. Amanda had been the only one he had actually told about him and Barba being together. She was also the only one, after one too many drinks one night, that he told about his kink. With Amanda's playful personality, it meant that he was forced to talk about it more often then he’d like. Although, he was also grateful to be able to talk things through with someone who was willing to listen, however much she teased.

Amanda raised her hand to cover the smirk that was clearly apparent as Sonny turned back to look at her once again. “Not that you're complaining though?” she inquired, giving him a knowing look.

Sonny rolled his eyes in response, sighing slightly at Amanda’s remark. He nodded subtly, though making no effort to hide the sullen look his features had assumed. “Well…” Sonny cut himself off, shrugging somewhat and looking down to the floor.

This stopped Amanda in her tracks. She raised her eyebrows, concern and confusion both clear on her face. “I thought you liked your men with a bit _extra,_ ” she asked tentatively.

Sonny made eye contact with Amanda once again, hurriedly reply “No, No. I still do. It’s just…” he sighed, feeling like his words were constantly escaping him. “Me and Barba got into an argument this morning. He told me he didn’t fit in his clothes because I can’t ‘control my urges’,” he made air quotes with his fingers to emphasise his point, “and he couldn’t afford to get his clothes altered. We haven’t spoken since.”

As much as he trusted Amanda, he refused to go any further. He refused to explain how, despite Barba always complaining about his weight, he had never once complained about Sonny’s behaviour until this morning. As far as Rafael had made it seem, he’d been relatively content to enjoy the food Sonny prepared and the affection Sonny displayed towards his body. He certainly never turned down any of the food Sonny offered him. But after the outburst this morning, Sonny couldn’t help feeling lost.

Amanda leant forward, exhaling gently and nodding understandingly at him. “That explains why you have signed up for all those extra hours-”

“To pay for him to go to the tailors. It’s only fair.” Sonny explained, mimicking her nodding but letting his eyes drift to where his hands were anxiously rubbing one another. It felt as if there was a weight in Carisi’s chest when he thought that his desires could have brought Barba distress.

“Does he know about what you're doing?” she asked, circling in the air with her pen as if to imply something beyond the end of her sentence.

Without looking up, he replied, “No, he stormed out before I could explain.” Hunching over further, his forehead was almost touching his hands. After a few seconds, he lifted his head up and looked at her once again, offering a weak smile.

Slowly, she got up and wandered over to place her hand on his right shoulder blade, leaning in so he could hear her. Amanda tilted her head to the side, a timid smirk turning the corners of her lips up. “Well. Enjoy the view while you can, seeing as you are the one paying for it.” She suggested, patting him on the shoulder as Barba exited Liv’s office and nodded at for him to follow, still with the same steely look on his face.

Sonny turned his head to face Amanda as she stood up straight, mirroring her timid smile. This is going to be _fun,_ Sonny thought, as he rounded his desk quickly to catch up with the attorney who was currently rushing out of the precinct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you have a great day :)


	2. A harder case than expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While watching the ADA fight a case in court, Sonny begins to explore his feelings around the argument but gets distracted by the fit of Barba's suit. Admiring his boyfriend's larger figure, however, has some unwanted, but not entirely unexpected, results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so much longer then it should have. 
> 
> This is a much more descriptive chapter then I intended it to be as I originally planned for it to be the start of a longer chapter, though I decided to split it up into two chapters instead. I apologise in advance if this is boring and if the flow in this chapter is off.

“But you weren’t _actually_ there?” Barba enquired, approaching the defendant in a relaxed but meaningful fashion. From his position in the gallery, Sonny’s view of Barba’s facial features was obscured but he knew the man well enough to tell that he was smirking. He could hear it in his tone, see it in the way he sauntered around the courtroom.

Regardless of the stress and well-hidden insecurities that Barba experienced outside the perimeters of a courtroom, once inside, he was the very picture of confidence and control. Arrogant, almost vain, he flaunted both his intelligence and trademark quick wit to all those in attendance. Sonny found it mesmerising to watch, to see how at ease he was when he had control of everything. He planned his questions on his notepad before posing them to the defendant. Every word was carefully chosen, and each expression considered. Even when angered, his word choice was purposeful, giving weight and meaning to every point he made. Unfortunately for Sonny and those around him, Barba’s desire to be in control was not confined to legal matters.

Sonny shook his head discreetly, realising he had zoned out, and refocused his eyes on the defendant, attempting to pay attention to the case proceeding before him. The perp sat there smugly, refusing to shy from the questions being posed to him, just as he had when Sonny had interrogated him months earlier. Yet even as Sonny stared at the way the edge of his lips curled, attempting to make sense of the words forming there, he couldn’t quite catch the gist of what he was saying. They’d been sat there for hours now and, with the gallery being so crowded, the air had become warm and stale. His head felt foggy and it was virtually impossible to focus on the case at hand. Checking his watch, Sonny felt relief wash over him as he realised that the court would soon adjourn for lunch.

Carisi managed to maintain focus for a few minutes more before his attention once again slipped. This time, though, he found his eyes and thoughts wondering to something much more entertaining - the way Barba’s ass was filling out his suit pants. Realising where his gaze had rested, Sonny quickly diverted his eyes elsewhere. He mentally chastised himself for his lack of self-control, a growing discomfort forming in his chest.

As much as he desired a distraction and Barba’s ass provided a good one, the pair had barely spoken since the argument this morning. Even after following Barba out of the precinct, the conversation between them consisted of only what was necessary. Sonny had hoped that Barba and him would talk about what had happened, what had been said, once they reached the privacy of Barba’s office but instead he had immediately begun discussing the case he had requested Sonny’s help with. From the way his jaw clenched and his shoulders remained tensed the entire morning, Sonny knew better than to press the matter. Even on the rare times he gave his legal insight, it was met with a simple murmur or hum in reply.

For all Barba’s legal skills, he lacked the social skills to resolve domestic disputes. This resulted in Sonny having to start any post argument conversations and this time, he wasn’t ready to do that just yet. Sonny wasn’t prepared to be told again how his tastes (or his _kink_ as Amanda put it) made Barba uncomfortable, how he needed to work on his self-control. He didn’t need to hear the man he loved repeat out loud what he’d been telling himself for months. The most infuriating thing about the whole argument, however, was that Sonny could never tell how much of what Barba said when angered was what he actually meant or whether he had simply said it to hurt Sonny. And Sonny wasn’t sure which conclusion he prefered.

Feeling a low ache in his chest, Sonny decided to leave this train of thought for later and resided to attempt to, once again, concentrate as Barba continued to question the perp. Having nowhere else to look, Sonny stared at Barba’s back, noting that his tone was more defensive than it had been earlier.

Finding very little interest in the perps answers, Sonny let his eyes explore the back of the ADA’s suit. Rafael had always loved the suit he currently wore for its slimming properties. It resided among the larger suits in his wardrobe, a place Raf referred to not so affectionately as his “fat suits”, and Sonny was pretty sure it was the largest he owned. Sonny had only seen him wear it a handful of times but seeing as Barba had been forced to wear suits almost exclusively from the “fat” section of his wardrobe for the last two months, Sonny hadn’t been surprised to see it make an appearance sooner rather than later. The combination of the black material and the design had always been flattering on his figure. His broad shoulders usually allowed the suit to hide the softness that resided further down, his love handles hidden behind the sharp cut of the material and his belly restricted by the waistcoat and masked by the single breasted suit jacket.

Unbuttoned, as his suit jacket was currently, and without the aid of the waistcoat, however, the suit didn’t quite achieve this effect. If anything, it made him look wider. The way the jacket hung either side of him still masked the sizeable love handles adorning his sides but it made his torso look a lot thicker than it actually was. Sonny found it odd that he hadn’t buttoned the suit jacket upon rising to cross-examine the defendant, only to realise that the suit jacket probably didn’t button anymore. At least not in a way that didn’t emphasise further how much wider Barba was now. He also couldn’t see Barba wanting to wrestle with the button of an overly small suit jacket in such a public setting, he’d be practically inviting the defence attorney to comment.

Sonny inhaled, the resulting breath being shakier than expected. These thoughts really shouldn’t be making blood rush to his groin. They really, really shouldn’t. Not here. Not now. He was in court for crying out loud. But that didn’t stop the fact that his head felt a lot lighter and his mouth had suddenly gone dry.

Pleased to have a distraction from both the case and his relationship woes, he allowed his eyes to navigate downwards. Despite the suit jacket being a reasonable length, Carisi could still make out a fair amount of Raf’s ass. His dress pants were practically painted on, the material clinging to his weighty behind. The metres between the two men did little to obscure how the seat of his pants was clearly straining. The thick material held in his ass so tightly it appeared almost firm.

Sonny knew better than to believe the illusion, though. Outside of the confines of his tailored suits, his cheeks had become rather soft nowadays and wobbled when Sonny slapped them, the force rippling through the brunette's skin. Whenever Barba walked around their apartment pantsless, he noted how the added flesh there seemed to bounce and ripple with each step Raf took. Whenever he managed to take the attorney by surprise, firmly squeezing his ass when he was sure there were no onlookers, he noted how there was a lot more there than the handful he’d grabbed when the two had started dating.

As for his thighs, they had also expanded over the last few months. While a majority of the weight Raf had gained resided firmly around his middle, the months of overindulgence had clearly not neglected the lower half of his body. Thick, his thighs strained the stitching of suit pants noticeably, though not enough that it appeared as if they would give in. After all, there was still muscle there. Barba spent more time than most would have assumed walking and standing but his thighs had clearly gotten their fair share of padding too. Whenever he sat, they occupied considerably more space than before, seeming to invite Sonny to straddle his lap or bury his face into them. Sonny bit his lip as he watched them rub together ever so slightly as Barba approached the perp. He wanted nothing more than to feel the tender flesh between his teeth.

If he was finding it difficult to breathe earlier, it was practically impossible now all the air in the room had seemingly disappeared. Pounding against his chest, his heart seemed intent on sending all his blood towards his own tightening pants. Honestly, right now, all he wanted to do was make a dash for the bathroom but leaving didn’t really seem like an option. Plus, beating off after exiting a courtroom in which a trial concerning an especially heinous crime was occurring would be a new low, even for Sonny.

Discreetly, he turned his head to either side of him to check if either Liv or Amanda had noticed his current predicament. Luckily for the detective, it appeared as if the two women were too absorbed in the proceedings of the case to notice the flush he could feel burning up his neck. Still, this was bad and if he didn’t get himself under control soon, someone was bound to notice. Dragging his hand down his face, Sonny attempted to calm himself down and adjust his focus, yet again, to the trial.

Barba apparently, had different plans. Oblivious to Sonny’s current situation, he turned to place his right arm on the edge of the stand and slide his other hand onto his hip. This action pushed his suit jacket back and revealed a profile of the ADA’s stomach to those in the gallery.

Even some metres away, Sonny could clearly see that Barba’s belt was clearly struggling to contain his recent expansion. His striped shirt was beyond tight as his belly rested heavily on and over the leather accessory. It was clear from the way the belt slanted slightly that the waistband of his dress pants was situated well below their proper placing, only emphasising his belly fat further. The shirt did nothing to flatter him, with a number of the buttons near his stomach noticeably straining to contain his midsection. The hand resting on his hip sunk slightly into the fat deposited there, his love handles only accentuated by the way his belt cut into his hips. The whole outfit looked beyond uncomfortable but any feelings of guilt that Sonny may have even remotely been entertaining earlier had all but melted away. All he could think about right now was stuffing the man with food until the long-suffering buttons on the suit gave in.

He was jolted out of his trace by a sharp pain in his left side. Startled, he tore his eyes from the perfect form before him to make eye contact with Amanda. Although a little surprised, he remained relatively calm. Unless she had taken classes in mind reading, she couldn’t possibly have known what he’d been thinking and it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d admired his boyfriend's larger form around his partner. So why was the blonde stifling a laugh?

Clearly gauging his expression to be confusion, Amanda made pointed stares towards his lap. Looking down, it became starkly apparent that his thoughts hadn’t been as private as he had desired. Dread set in as he realised that he’d been too caught up admiring Barba’s plumper figure to be concerned about the considerable tent forming in his pants. Could this day get _any_ better?

Avoiding his partner’s eye contact, he quickly crossed his legs and placed an arm across his lap. His blood felt like it was boiling, fueled by both arousal and shame. Coughing, he attempted to get himself under control. Amanda gave him a mischievous yet gentle smirk and was considerate enough not to comment right now. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it once they were back to the precinct, however. Panic set in briefly when he remembered that Liv was sat to his other side but a quick glance up informed him that she was more focused on the case then the lanky blonde beside her.

Focused on recollecting himself, he only noticed that the court had adjourned when Amanda gently tapped his shoulder. He looked up in time, however, to catch Barba pause next to their bench, examining Sonny’s sorry state, before making a speedy exit out of the court. Judging by his expression, he was neither pleased with the way the case was going nor the mess Sonny had gotten himself into. _Brilliant._

Sonny felt a confusing mixture of emotions swell in his chest as he battled his arousal. Rising to his feet, he flashed an apologetic smile at Amanda, who simply nodded in reply, before forcing his way through the crowd in pursuit of the brunette. Barba had apparently vanished into thin air as he was nowhere to be seen once Sonny had barged through the double doors of the court.

Using his height to his advantage, he surveyed the crowd surrounding him. After a moment or two, he noticed Liv stood to the side, talking to Fin. “Liv!” He called out as he made a beeline towards the pair, doing best to position his arms in front of his crotch as he approached. Both seemed a little startled by the sound of Sonny’s voice, turning to face him as he hastily approached. He attempted to ignore how Fin looked him up and down as the blonde came to a stop before them. “Do either of you have any idea where Barba might have gone?” Sonny asked, a little breathless.

The pair glanced at one another, their expressions mirroring one another’s. After a few, short moments, they broke eye contact and Liv began addressing the detective. “It’s lunch so he probably went to go grab something to eat.” She replied, shrugging slightly as she did so. Tilting her head and narrowing her eyes, she seemed to open her mouth again to speak but Sonny cut her off with a short nod and a simple “Thanks.” before turning on his heels and making his way towards the elevators.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to have Chapter 3 posted soon :) Have a great day!


	3. Weighty Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Carisi locates the ADA but when their conversation ends up heading south, it’s up to Liv to set Barba straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this Chapter too descriptive? Probably. Have I been trying to edit this for the better part of a month? Absolutely!
> 
> Just a heads up, this Chapter is also a lot longer and more emotional than I anticipated.

Squinting, Sonny emerged from the court at a considerable pace, only to stop abruptly behind one of the stone columns. Due to the age of the building, the lighting in the courthouse was inadequate at best and having been subjected to its artificial glow for the previous few hours, the harsh sunlight was blinding. The detective used the moment to collect himself and pulled his coat around him more tightly as the pulsating lower down reminded him he was still not quite over his earlier thoughts. The fresh air and change of setting helped, however, and he had managed to get his breathing mostly under control. As his eyes adjusted to the outside world, he focused on the task at hand and used the elevation of the courthouse steps to search the square opposite for the ADA.

While he hadn't been completely oblivious to the news reports, he was still stunned by the sheer mass of people marching behind the line of officers parallel to the court. From the articles he'd bothered to glance at and the titbits of information he overheard from the squad, he’d been aware that the case was of a higher profile then most the team investigated but he’d just presumed it was the typical level of controversy and notoriety that any celebrity court case carried with it. A battle between the scores of fans who lined up to defend his name and the public who would have preferred a lynching to a court case. And while it was fair to say that protests outside the court were a common occurrence, the size and agitated nature of the crowd came off as even more excessive than normal. At the sight of the signs abrasively demanding “Down with the DA!”, Sonny finally clinked why the DA had been so pent up about this specific case and why Barba had been on the receiving end of it.

Time being of the essence, Carisi refocused on the task at hand and descended the stone steps, careful to avoid the swarm of reporters crowding the pathway. Usually, Rafael purchased lunch from one of the many food carts situated in close proximity to the court. Less time consuming then visiting a restaurant and offering a variety of food among them, Sonny had often witnessed Barba tear into a burrito from the metal van on the corner or devour a hot dog from the slightly dodgy looking cart with the red and yellow umbrella. Yet a simple glance around the various vendors informed him that Barba wasn’t purchasing from any of them. Probably for the best, Sonny concluded, as his eyes flicked back to the protestors once again.

 _Ok_ , Sonny sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, _maybe finding the ADA wouldn't be as straightforward as he first thought_. Never easily deterred, however, Sonny decided now would be a good time to put his rather extensive knowledge of Barba's eating habits and the skills he had developed over his career to good use. Sonny pulled out his phone and started typing a list of every possible location the brunette could currently be. The shorter man was a stress eater and judging by his facial expressions in the court earlier and the way he made a hasty exit, he was currently somewhere eating his feelings into oblivion. Sonny ignored the pang of guilt, and slight arousal, that rose at that image and instead used it to limit his list to local restaurants, the kind that sells heavy food in large quantities. In New York, however, that did little to narrow down the search. Maybe the grumpy little lawyer was more elusive then he gave him credit for.

Sonny attempted to narrow the list further by recalling any local restaurants Barba mentioned frequenting but, as far as he knew at least, these vendors were Rafi's only regular eating spot. He was considering contacting Carmen when he caught the eye of the coffee vendor he saw Barba frequented daily. If Carisi remembered correctly, the vendor was usually positioned opposite the courthouse; lawyers, he had learnt, were always in need of more caffeine, meaning it was probably a rather profitable spot. With the square being taken over by the rally, however, Sonny doubted he was getting the same footfall. He could use this to his advantage.  
  
Pausing momentarily, he considered the morality of the thought that had just presented itself, before realising it was perhaps his only way of locating the ADA before the end of the recess. With a sigh, he began fishing around in his coat pocket, pulling out his small leather wallet moments later. He grabbed a couple of notes from inside, attempting to ignore how little cash he had left, before slipping it back into his pocket.  
  
His trademark smile adorned his face, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth, as he casually wandered over to the guy stood by the cart. “A latte, please.” he requested, making sure to lay his accent on thick.  
  
The vendor remained silent, simply nodding, though reciprocated the smile before turning to the coffee dispenser positioned behind him. Sonny noted how the guy shook slightly despite the vast amount of layers he was buried under. Given the low temperatures and harsh winds, the detective couldn't imagine anything worse than standing out in an exposed area like this all day.  
  
_Here goes nothing_ , Sony thought, inhaling deeply as he leant one hand on the surface of the cart. “Hey.” Sonny smiled tentatively, tilting his head to the side a little as the vendor looked over his shoulder. Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, softening his expression further. “I don’t suppose you know where the ADA might have run off to, do you? He’s the guy who gets a latte from here every morning.”  
  
Sonny watched the shoulders before him tense underneath the thick material of the coat. The guy’s head turned to the protestors momentarily before returning to the latte warming his hands.  
  
“I'm not sure, to be honest with you sir, a lot of people buy coffee from me,” he replied politely, a hint of defensiveness also present in his tone, before turning to place the latte on the metal surface of the cart. A small drop of coffee jumped over the cup’s edge with the force of the cup’s placement.  “$3.50, please.”  
  
Well, at least Sonny now knew he could count on street vendors to be ever loyal to the justice system. Time to step up his act. Playing to his audience, his face contorted into fake concern as his hand slid onto his hip. Sonny made sure to give the vendor time to clock the badge adorning his belt before muttering “the Sarge is gonna have my ass for this.” The man’s shoulders lowered slightly and Sonny took that as a sign to proceed.  
  
Fumbling slightly, he raised his head to glance around, as if searching for onlookers, before raising the small wad of notes in his hand. Sonny was aware that it was probably a lot more than strictly necessary, probably more than the guy had made all day, but he was feeling generous. Consider it his good act of the week.  
  
He tilted his head and took full advantage of the harmless look his baby-blue eyes provided him with. Sonny was practically begging as he asked “Are you sure? He buys from here practically every day. Would have passed here maybe 5 minutes ago? Wearing a black suit with a bright yellow tie. Has a-”  
  
“You mean the lawyer? The short, Cuban one? Kinda fat.” Sonny internally winced at the rather harsh description but doesn’t let his smile falter for even a second. After receiving a nod from Carisi, the man continued, a smile on his face to accompany the fake realisation in his voice. “Yeah, saw him head down that way. Maybe 5 minutes ago.” nodding to the road behind Sonny. Sonny beamed, his smile spreading, and slipped the money into the jar on the side.  
  
“You’re a lifesaver,” he thanked, not having to fake the relief heavy in his voice. The blonde grabbed the coffee from the cart and began to turn away before he leant in to add "would you mind not telling anyone about this. It just doesn't look good, you know?"

The man smirked but nodded.

"Oh and stay safe, alright?" Sonny said, first pointing at the vendor then at the crowd of protestors. This elicited another nod from the vendor, though this time it was accompanied by a chuckle from the man, as he rubbed his hands together for warmth.

  
Sonny patted the cart and turned from the vendor to begin his search for the ADA. Glancing over his shoulder as he departed, he saw the guy count the money Sonny had deposited before doing what appeared to be a mini-celebration and packing up the cart. Sonny couldn't stop himself from smiling as he walked away.

* * *

 

The lanky blonde weaved between the civilians littering the sidewalk, adrenaline keeping the detective’s pace quick and his breathing shaky. Glancing down, he routinely checked his phone for all restaurants and coffee shops google claimed were situated nearby. Of course, as usual, the internet was not the _most_ reliable source of information, meaning some of the place listed were actually closed or had even seemingly vacated the site months ago, but it was still better then walking around in circles for the next hour. The extra leg work also gave him the opportunity to search the streets for the ADA, but he was adamant he hadn’t passed him. He was pretty sure he had spent enough time _appreciating_ Barba’s outfit earlier in court to be able to spot him in a heartbeat.

Buzzing, his phone indicated he was approaching another place. From what Sonny could make out from the low-quality image provided on their website, it was some sort of bakery. He once again found himself grateful that his height allowed him to see over the heads of those around him and it only took a couple of seconds to spot the bakery across the street. He knew it was a long shot but worth a try nonetheless. After all, Barba was renowned for his sweet tooth even before him and Sonny had become official.

However, even as he approached, it was clear that Barba wasn’t there. The small cream coloured bakery was empty, except for an elderly couple. They seemed to be in high spirits, smiling as they sat sipping at the contents in their cups and eating sizable slices of cake. Having no reason to actually enter, Sonny stood staring through the window as he examined the glass display cabinet. Various baked goods decorated the shelves. An assortment of cakes seemed to dominate the top row, while eclairs and other pastry-based goods filled out the lower shelves.  
  
Stood there, staring through the window of the bakery, Sonny couldn’t help but feel a long-suppressed desire rekindle inside him. While Sonny seemed naturally gifted at most things including food, baking was his true passion. It had always reminded him of his grandmother and when the two of them would create and decorate all kinds of baked treats. He'd seriously considered opening his own bakery but he had somehow found his life going down a very different path. Not to say he was unhappy with his life or would even consider leaving the squad at SVU now but he still always found the idea of owning his own little eatery appealing.  
  
Well, if he was completely honest, it may have more to do with his _tastes_ falling on the _heavier_ side than fond family memories he thought, shaking his head gently as he chuckled. He refused to identify himself as a “feeder”, despite all of his boyfriend's snide remarks. He simply liked to care for others, watch them enjoy the food he prepared for them and ensure that they don't go hungry. Or at least that's what he liked to tell himself.

Prompted by one last longing look at the array of treats, his stomach grumbled loudly. He rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand as he recalled how he had missed breakfast due to the brunette needing assistance with his suit pants and how he'd been so preoccupied with finding his boyfriend, he hadn’t even thought about lunch yet. The gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach suggested that he needed something more substantial than just another cup of caffeinated liquid, though he lacked much of appetite, the feeling of guilt still heavy in his chest. Still, he had a long shift ahead of him yet down at the precinct and, so far, he had checked over a dozen different places, with no sign of his man anywhere. Checking his watch, he noted that for all he knew, Barba could already be back at court by now.

Sonny exhaled heavily as he turned from the bakery, preferring something savoury for his first solid meal of the day, and began heading back in the direction of the court. He only glanced up occasionally as he walked, instead focusing his attention on searching for the location of a little cafe he’d looked in earlier on his phone. It was as he looked up to cross a road, however, that his attention was caught by the floor to ceiling windows of a small Italian place, situated on a corner he had previously passed. The place looked relatively busy, streams of both Italian and English flowing through the open door. It had the stereotypical look of a family run business, perhaps explaining why his phone hadn’t buzzed earlier when he’d passed it.

Sonny crossed the road and approached the restaurant. It was classier than a lot of the places he’d searched so far but lacked the usual pompous pretence the places Barba usually took Sonny possessed. Glancing through the window of the restaurant, Sonny felt his heart leap into his mouth as he caught a glimpse of an ivory shirt. He practically had his face pressed against the glass as his eyes make out the form-fitting nature of the shirt, the broad shoulders it enveloped and the splattering of grey decorating the back of the brunette’s head. Without his signature suspenders, Sonny had almost missed him.

He noticed a couple of the families seated near the windows giving him suspicious looks, prompting Sonny to take a step back. This action brought him face to face with his own reflection in the restaurant window. His own gradually greying hair was dishevelled, his shirt had come untucked and his left leg had been splattered with water. After searching his appearance, he made eye contact with himself and was greeted by an alarmed stare.

Sonny had been so focused on finding Barba, he hadn’t even considered what he was actually going to say when he found him. Breaking eye contact with his reflection, he took a second to collect himself, sighing as he tucked his shirt beneath his belt and adjusted his hair, before resting his open hand against the window.

For a moment, he considered forgetting he even saw Rafael there; simply just continue on his way as if nothing had happened. It was an option. A solid one at that. Yet, while the persistent burning sensation in his abdomen indicated his stomach longed for the lunch he’d promised it just moments prior, Carisi was the last person to back down when he had his mind set on something. With one final glance up, he used his palm to push off of the glass, attempting to keep his breathing steady as he ducked slightly through the small open door.

* * *

 

Whether this was a regular eating spot for Barba or his first visit, Sonny wasn’t sure. The restaurant was relatively dark once inside, with the main source of light coming from the windows. Being lunchtime, it was relatively busy inside and the room continued to hum with conversations in various different languages. Dinners were practically sat back to back but no one seemed at all bothered, all too absorbed in their meals or stories to pay too much attention to their proximity to one another. Sonny watched a little in awe as the waiters skillfully manoeuvred around their patrons, balancing plates precariously along the length of their arms.

As Sonny carefully shuffled around the diners to where he could remember Barba being sat, he couldn’t help but begin to question whether the person he had seen was actually him. Rafael was not a “people person” at the best of times, a fact that Sonny had come to both love and resent, and he tended to harbour a hatred for small, crowded spaces.

Perhaps that’s why he chose to eat here, Sonny pondered. He knew it would be the last place anyone would consider looking for him and, when the people closest to you also happen to be New York’s finest detectives, that’s probably exactly what he wanted.

Grace and elegance had never been his forte and Carisi did his best to avoid tripping face first into someone’s meal as he attempted to suppress the urge to flee rising in his chest. 

It was as he shuffled past a family that were practically screaming the lyrics of happy birthday at a seemingly traumatised young boy that Barba’s profile once again came into view. He was still some distance from where the ADA was sitting but he stopped to process the scene before him.

The shorter man was sat alone, his table lacking the candle that adorned those around him. Hunched slightly over his bowl, one hand was manoeuvring forkfuls of thick, creamy Carbonara into his mouth, while he used his other hand to text on his phone. Despite the considerable size of the bowl of pasta before him, a generous helping of garlic bread and mozzarella sticks sat to the left of him. There was also a clean plate directly in front of him, presumably some sort of starter that was now long forgotten. Coughing, the Detective attempted to calm his heart rate as the flush from earlier began to climb up his neck once again.

“Like what you see detective?” a sharp, snarky voice taunted, stopping the taller man in his tracks. Barba was hunched over the bowl of pasta as he had previously been, but instead of fixated on his phone, the ADA’s cold stare rested on him. Stuck between fleeing to safety and the inevitable, staying put seemed like a reasonable solution. And yet, Sonny found himself slowly approaching Barba’s table, his throat going dry at the look in Barba’s eye.

“Well?” Rafael questioned, his tone edging close to antagonizing; a tone he usually saved for the courtroom. Straightening his posture, he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly as the silence between them dragged on.

Still receiving no answer, Barba placed his phone face down on the table and dropped his folk heavily into the meal in front him, before leaning back in his chair. When Sonny's eye’s maintained eye contact with his, Barba gave an instructing glance downwards towards his stomach. He watched as Sonny maintained eye contact for a few painstaking moments more before he lowered his gaze to where the striped shirt material clearly gapped around the buttons, exposing the flesh below. Even with him reclining, the belt around Barba’s middle seemed to be tighter than ever, with his now full stomach furiously resisting the constriction of the belt. The angle of his head also aided in emphasizing how soft his neck had gotten, his double chin folding over the collar of his dress shirt.

Sonny just gulped in return, resisting the urge to make an indecent noise at the sight. Rafael knew exactly what this was doing to him and he wasn’t playing fair. Seemingly unable to leave the courtroom behind him, he could tell Barba would use this as evidence against him in both this and future arguments. Clearly, however, his body did not get the message and Barba’s pants were now not the only uncomfortable garment in the room. Sonny closed his eyes, attempting, for the third time today, to get himself under control. This is _certainly not_ how Sonny had expected today to go when he woke up this morning.

When he reopened his eyes, he was met with the sight of Barba staring at his crotch. The man then gave a quick glance upward to his face before looking down and shaking his head. A short, hateful laugh slipped from his lips. Sonny waited for him to speak but he remained silent, only allowing for the tension between them to grow further. He simply leant forward and continued eating, a scowl returning to his face. _Shit_ . _How was it that Sonny always seemed to make things worse?_

Sonny attempted to calm his breathing but that only seemed to make his heartbeat ring even louder in his ears. He couldn’t stand the silence any longer. Staring at the ground, Sonny gently murmured “Look, Raf, about this morning-“

“Tell me Carisi,” Rafael interrupted, asking in a more spiteful tone than previously used “what is it that turned you on in Court earlier? Is it the knowledge I have gotten _fat_ or is it that I look even _fatter_ than normal without a waistcoat? Or is it the belt you like better, detective?”

Sonny’s eyes shot to establish whether that was simply a sarcastic remark or a question, rhetorical or otherwise, his eyes being met with Barba’s steely glare as he shovelled more of the pasta into his mouth.

Unsure of an appropriate answer that wouldn’t inadvertently anger the ADA further, Sonny attempted to ignore the comment. Using a more pleading look and tone this time around, his eyes softened as he said “Rafael-“  
  
“Answer the question,” Barba growled. Sonny remained silent, instead choosing to make eye contact with the brunette properly for the first time since Barba had directed his gaze south. The look in his eye made Sonny’s patience falter.

Sonny was a patient man. He had to be with Rafael Barba, Manhattan’s infamously temperamental ADA, as a boyfriend. He endured the snarky comments and backhanded remarks made in the heat of the moment and willingly accepted Rafael’s apologies when the smaller man had come to his senses.  
  
One of the things Carisi admired and adored about Barba was just how dedicated he was to his job. He loved it even if it meant dealing with the ADA bringing his frustrations home with him when the jury didn’t deliver the desired verdict. The particularly gruesome details of this current case had been trying on all of them and it was clear that he was under significantly more pressure, both from within the DA’s office and outside of it, to secure a conviction.  
  
Sonny could also understand why he had gotten so upset about his suit this morning. Until this morning, Rafael had been able to revel in self-denial about his weight gain. Even throughout the year Barba and Carisi had been together, the ADA’s weight had fluctuated a fair amount. This meant it was not unusual for him to pull items from the larger area of his wardrobe, only to size down again within a few weeks. It was unusual, however, not to have his largest suit button without the aid of his partner.  
  
However, none of this granted Barba the right to treat Sonny like this, like he had all day. Even now, with the poses he was pulling and the questions he was asking, Barba knew exactly what he was doing to him and yet was angered when the detective's body reacted to those purposeful acts. It was almost as if he was blaming Carisi solely for his overeating, just as he had done this morning with his weight gain. Conveniently, Barba was seemingly ignoring the fact that his stress eating habits had also significantly contributed to the extra inches situated at his waist.  
  
What cut Carisi the deepest, though, was the comments Barba had made about his preferences, especially as he had never voiced any issue with Sonny’s small indulgences in his kink prior to this morning. As with everything else in their relationship, had Barba said he was unhappy with his weight or expressed any discomfort at Sonny’s behaviour, Sonny would have stopped. But he hadn’t. Not until this morning, that was.   
  
Sonny was a patient man but even he had a breaking point.

Balling his hands into fists, he only noticed how hard his fingernails were pressing into the palm of his hands when he felt them break through the skin. “Did it ever cross your mind to just talk to me? To say you weren't happy? About your weight. About your suits. About my tastes." Sonny yelled, gesturing frantically as he made each point.

His facial muscles tensed as he wrinkled his nose. The edges of his mouth pointed downwards as he continued, his tone growing harsher as his voice got louder.  "No. No, instead, you made me believe everything was fine for the last, what, 6 months and then waited until this morning to tell me how you **really** feel.”  
  
Barba opened his mouth to interject when he made eye contact with the blonde. Carisi’s stare was unforgiving behind the strands of greying hair that had fallen down in front of his face. Upon seeing the pain and guilt harboured in the blue eyes he adored so much, Barba’s confidence faltered. Barba could handle bitterness, he'd anticipated the anger, he'd even run over this scenario a few times in his head prior to the altercation but nothing in his imagined scenarios or in all his experience as a prosecutor prepared him for the pain one felt when they realised they hurt a person who loved them unconditionally.  
  
Rafael felt the tension in his shoulders loosen and the snarl on his face lower. His stomach squirmed uncomfortably as he attempted to think of something, anything, to say. To fix what he'd done. But the genuinely hurt and pain Sonny was feeling, that he had caused through petty, bitter arguing, was staring him in the face. And for that, he could think of no way of either defending himself or even biting back at Sonny’s comments. For the first time in a long time, Rafael Barba found his words failing him.

“I work at SVU, Rafael. I understand what "no" and "stop" mean.”

Unable to look Sonny in the eye again, his stare darted to the diners nearby. Aside from a few sideways glances, it seemed like most of the diners around him had remained oblivious to the argument, continuing their meals and conversations as if nothing had happened.

“Why didn't you just talk to me?” His voice was softer, quieter than before.  

He hadn’t said anything because there hadn’t been a need to. Because maybe the added weight didn’t bother him as much as he _knew_ it should. The presence the extra weight gifted him in court was undeniable, granting him a more intimidating demeanour then his short stature alone had allowed. And maybe because somewhere along the line, while indulging Sonny's kink, he may have started experiencing his own _excitement_ ; _feelings_ he’d been unwilling to admit to or address, preferring to mask them under his boyfriend’s desires. Or maybe it was because he’d been living in blissful ignorance, able to ignore his growing size and postpone any propose diets until “tomorrow” until reality slapped him in the face this morning. And just maybe it was because while he could still wear his well-crafted wardrobe, he had been able to suppress the memories of his childhood and his late father's jabs aimed at his weight _issues;_  forget his mother's not-so-subtle diet suggestions and ignore the smirks on the faces of opposing attorneys whenever they caught a glimpse of him eating.

"Do you... do you not trust me?"  
  
Sonny had barely whispered the question, his voice breaking partway through. Barba looked up to see Caris’s reddening eyes glisten as they filled with water. In all the time they had been together, in all the time he had known Sonny even, he had never seen the man cry and, until now, he didn’t know something so simple could rip the heart out of his chest. And yet a lump formed in his throat and, whether out of vanity or cowardice, the words in his head went unsaid.  
  
Sonny’s features tensed once again, silencing any apologises Barba had been contemplating saying out loud. “After all that, you are just gonna give me the silent treatment now, huh?” he yelled, his anger reemerging.   
  
_Because I really fucked up this time and I don’t know how to fix this._  
  
“Do you know what? Forget it! See you around, _Counsellor,_ ” Sonny spat over his shoulder as he stormed off, almost taking out a waiter in his rush to exit the building.

* * *

  
Sat in stunned silence, Barba’s chest tightened as the reality of what had just occurred set in. Muffled by the sound of his own heartbeat hammering in his ears, he was unable to hear the conversations of the diners around him. The growing pressure around his head made the whole sensation unbearable and he only realised that his own eyes had filled with water when the restaurant around him had blurred to an unrecognisable state.  
  
He refused to cry, however. Instead, he simply narrowed his eyes as he waited for his vision to become clearer before returning his attention to the dishes in front of him. Despite the growing discomfort in his midsection, he was intent on forcing any lingering emotions down with food.

Shortly after Sonny stormed out, he had finished the pasta, pushing the bowl to one side so that he could move onto the garlic bread and mozzarella sticks. Even before he started on the sides, his stomach had felt warm and overly full. As he progressed through the garlic bread, he noticed his heart rate lower as the pain in his chest dulled. The flavours of the oils mixed with the soft yet crunchy texture of the bread provided him with a sense of comfort.  
  
For as long as he could remember, he had always been a stress eater. Whether it was snacking while he mulled over a case or increasing the frequency of his meals on court days, food had always acted as a form of comfort for him. Even all the way back in his Harvard days, food had been his main form of stress relief, explaining perhaps why exam season always resulted in him going up a size or two. He was aware that it wasn’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but in this line of work, everyone had something to get them through. Rollins drank and gambled; Fin played video games; Sonny cooked, and Barba ate.  
  
And right now, food was helping Barba come to terms with the fact that, as per usual, his own self-destructive behaviours had pushed away one of the few people he truly cared about. In the courtroom, his quick wit, argumentative nature and arrogant disposition made him a formidable foe for even the most seasoned defence attorney. In domestic situations, however, these qualities tended to lead him to say things in the heat of an argument that he would later regret. When coupled with his apparent unwillingness to express and discuss his emotions, he had ended up pushing the love of his life away when he needed him most. Now he had hurt Sonny and didn’t know how to fix it.  
  
Despite him being slightly breathless, he continued to eat until he had finished the sides, opting to deal with the consequences of such overindulgence over dealing with any of the emotions he currently felt.   
  
His belt, on the other hand, was less than pleased about the mounting pressure. Sucking in his stomach as much as physically possible after the amount of food he had consumed, he used one hand to slightly lift his stomach up from his belt and wiggled his thumb between his lower stomach and the leather. He attempted to push the belt down, except it didn’t shift, wedged tightly below the weight of his stomach. The cold, metal buckle of the belt continued to cut into the doughy belly fat climbing over it. _Simply fucking fantastic!_

The warm fuzzy feeling that the copious amounts of food had provided him with prior to Sonny's outburst had all but disappeared. With a grunt, Rafael pushed thoughts of Sonny to the back of his mind, simply raising his arm to catch the attention of a server instead. The low ache in his stomach did nothing to prevent him from deciding that more garlic bread was the answer to his woes.  
  
Without warning, a hand was placed delicately on his forearm. “You have to be in court in less than an hour” he heard a familiar voice remark as the hand gently lowered his arm. He looked up to meet eyes with Liv, a look of concern clear on her face.

As she rounded the table, to take the empty seat opposite, he noticed her look him up and down before surveying the array of empty plates. Reality seemed to hit him like a bucket of ice cold water and shame quickly rose to sit heavily in his chest. Blushing, he attempted to adjust the way he was sitting, to make his stomach less obvious but with how full he was, the warm ache present low in his stomach a reminder of that, and the fit of his clothes, he wasn’t sure that was possible. Tugging at his shirt would just make the way the buttons currently gapped across the soft mass of his stomach even more apparent and no amount of sucking in would stop the button in the centre of his soften chest from straining. It also wasn’t exactly as if Barba’s stress eating was new to Benson.

Barba still remembered the first time Liv found him in his office, eating his weight in calorie-laden produce. It was shortly after his abuelita had died and way before Sonny and him had gotten together. Barba dealt with grief the same way he dealt with anything even remotely distressing; he ate. For weeks after her death he'd been consumed by the overwhelming need to force any sign of emotion down with enough takeaway to feed the entire SVU squad. The warmth of being overly full brought him comfort during his mourning, allowed him to cope with it, even despite the emotional strain of his job.  
  
That evening, he had asked Carmen to collect his order on his behalf. Perhaps he should have been embarrassed by the sheer amount of food he had requested but she'd been working with him long enough to know better than to question her boss about the size of his meal requests. Of course, that didn't stop her gaze dropping to the way his sides pouched over the waistband of his dress pants but he supposed he couldn't blame her for that. While he was slimmer back then than he was now, he'd been too focused on the feeling of emptiness sitting in his chest to acknowledge the increasing size of his gut and the suit he had been wearing was at least two sizes smaller then he required.  
  
It was just after he'd made his way through about half of the order and had, begrudgingly, unbuttoned his dress pants that Liv entered his office entirely unannounced. Carmen had clearly ignored his instructions not to let anyone enter but he was simply too embarrassed with himself to be angry. There was also a part of him, if he was truly honest, that really needed a friend right then. She was kind enough not to remark on the unbuttoned pants Rafael knows she noticed. Instead, she simply took a seat in the chair opposite and waited patiently until he was ready to talk.  
  
It had happened a number of times after, typically when his emotions had gotten too much to bear. Liv had suggested her therapist on a few occasions but he'd always just made a snarky comment in response, his way of politely rejecting her offer. His stress eating had worked fine for years and he had control of it. Or so he told himself. Though, he supposed, that was because he had never indulged it in the middle of a case and in such a public setting before.

Focusing back on the present, he pulled his stare away from the far off corner of the restaurant and summoned the courage to finally look into Liv’s eyes. Barba could never pinpoint what it was about that look that could cut through his arrogant nature and snide remarks. He tried to think of snarky comments that could break the silence, but instead, the feeling the anger he’d been harbouring against Sonny, against himself, seemingly lost its enthusiasm and dulled into a painful sense of vulnerability and bitterness.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on between you two?” she questioned softly as she studied his face.

Barba eyes widened momentarily, before narrowing once again. Of course Liv knew. While they weren’t going around announcing their relationship, they weren’t exactly subtle either. Knowing Benson, she probably had known they’d had feelings for one another even before they themselves had known.

Seeing no point in keeping up pretences that had long been shattered, he ran his tongue along the edge of his lips before gulping noticeably and dropping his gaze to the floor. “We had an argument this morning,” he stated, in a shakier tone then he intended.  
  
Liv nods gently, her lips remaining relatively straight. “Ok?” She prompted as she tilted her head to the left. “What was it about?”  
  
He supposed it was naive of him to hope his brief answer would satisfy the detective but he'd been at a loss for what to say. Despite the bond and trust that had formed between the pair of them over the last few years, often during his stress eating episodes, he wasn't ready to admit out loud what he's been contemplating for hours. Something he wasn't even able to admit to himself just yet. He hadn't been able to even begin discussing it with Sonny, so he'd just pushed him away. Liv may have more tact then Sonny but even she stood little chance against his sharp tongue. Losing his partner today was bad enough, he wasn't prepared to lose his only real friend as well.  
  
As he narrowed down his options of half-truths to sell the Lieutenant opposite him, his thoughts were quickly brought back to the present.

“Is it to do with the... relationship weight you’ve gained?” Liv asked gently, barely loud enough to make out amongst the conversations of the other patrons.

His eyes darted to Liv's face as he tried to process whether he had misheard or whether she really did just say what he thought she did. His suspicions, however, were confirmed by Benson's gaze resting firmly on the hand perched on the centre of his stomach. The position of his hand only aided to emphasise the ill fit of his shirt, the material beneath his fingers taut against the soft flesh underneath.  
  
He was also adamant Benson's attention had undoubtedly drawn to just how far his stomach was pooching over his belt. Though he didn't allow any realisation to register on his face, he became acutely aware of how the weight of his stomach had forced down the leather and was resting slightly on the top of his thighs, allowing the belt to cut into his soft underbelly painfully. Clearly, he should have been paying more attention to what his hands were doing, as there wasn't the slightest possibility Benson would accept any of the excuses he had been considering after that.

“Is it that obvious?” he snarked defensively, the tone lacking his usual bite. Looking down at himself once again, buttons straining, he supposed he couldn’t really ask that question with any level of seriousness. A smirk dusted his lips but the wrinkles failed to form at the corner of his eyes. The shame was clear on his features, despite his efforts to mask the flush that was forming, and Liv would have questioned whether he was about to cry had she not known him well.

Liv opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. She sighed gently, signifying she had abandoned whatever train of thought she had considered pursuing. Narrowing her eyes, she interlinked the fingers of her hands and started to rub the palms of them lightly against one another.  
  
“Did Sonny ask you to lose weight?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to register his response.

“No,” Barba replied. He laughed weakly as he shook his head, gaze fixed towards the ground.  
  
“Then what? I’m a detective, not a mind reader.” Liv joked gently, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips. Barba laughed a little, genuinely this time. Feeling his defences lower, he supposed he should make it easy on the both of them. It wasn't like Liv was going to leave without getting to the root of his problems, anyway. 

  
“This stays between you and me…” he said in a low, yet strained voice. Barba’s eyes darted around as if to check if anyone was nearby. Of course, they weren’t.

“Off the record,” Liv replied as she nodded slightly.

Barba really felt like a chicken parmesan would help the situation massively but he had a strong suspicion Benson would object to him ordering more food. Plus, the strain of the buttons on his shirt told him if he wanted to appear in court that afternoon with all buttons intact, then he was to stop eating soon. He would have enough trouble downplaying his current state.

“Sonny likes the fact I gained weight,” Barba stated in a matter of fact way. He picked up his scotch and took a swig to hide the blush blooming on his face. Even over the rim of the glass, he could see Liv mulling over what he had said, though her brow was knotted in what seemed to be confusion.

“A lot,” he added for clarity.

Liv's face relaxed, realisation dawning on her features, as she slowly nodded once again. Barba was beyond embarrassed for admitting Sonny’s kink to Liv but, then again, he reasoned that Liv had probably seen enough at SVU to put that little confession to shame.

“And this lead to an argument because…” Liv turned her head, narrowing her eyes for a split second.

“ _Because_ ,” Barba replied, stressing the word more than was strictly necessary, “I don’t fit in a majority of my suits anymore and we don’t have the money to get my clothes altered.” Barba paused, looking down at the state of his suit before looking back at Liv and adding “Or a whole new wardrobe.”

Benson sensed she was on thin ice, one wrong move resulting in Rafael stopping this whole conversation to storm off somewhere else, feigning an urgent matter that needed attending to. The only reason she guessed they'd made it this far was because, judging by the shallowness of his breathing, he was too full to move anywhere else comfortably.

“How do you feel about your weight?” she asked, resting her chin on her thumb while the remaining fingers curled into a fist in front of her mouth.

Barba's brow furrowed, his facial features displaying first confusion, then anger. In a stern but steady tone, he stated “I just told you that-”

“No." Liv interrupted, her tone equally firm, though possessing a kindness to it that Barba's had lacked. "You told me you had outgrown your clothes. You didn’t tell me how you _actually_ feel about your weight.”

Rafael first squinted at Liv and then just looked down, not quite sure how to answer the question posed to him. She waited for a few beats to pass but it soon became clear he wasn’t going to be forthcoming with an answer. Slowly and carefully, she proceeded. “Just, the way I see it, for as long as we’ve known each other you have been… soft around the middle, let's say.”

Barba shot her a warning look but didn’t interrupt her.

“You know what I mean,” she said, replying to his look with a firm stare.

“That I’ve been fat since we met? Well, nice of you to have only given me the memo now.” Rafael bit back. His tone was harsher then he intended but he found it hard to control both his voice and breathing as his chest tighten once again. Being told that ' _you’ve been fat since we met_ ' by your closest friend was a sure fire way to bruise anyone's ego.

 _If the two marry_ , Liv thought, _they better make Sonny a Saint for all he's endured_ . As much as she wanted to throw the towel in now and go and relax in what remained of the lunch break, she stood her ground.“It's never seemed to bother you before, is what I meant. Even in the last few months, when Sonny's..." Liv paused, tilting her head from side to side, " _preferences_ started having an effect, you seemed fine with it all. What's changed?”

“That was before, when I could still button at least one of my waistcoats,” Barba answered. His tone was pained and there was a frustration to it but Liv guessed that was directed more at himself then at her.

Though she was subtle about the movement, Barba noted the way Liv eyes dropped to confirm that, yes, Rafael Barba, the man renowned among legal practitioners for his extravagant 3 piece suits, wasn't, in fact, wearing a waistcoat. The glance had probably also confirmed the fact that the missing waistcoat was due to his recent expansion.

Blushing at that thought, Barba added, “people have started noticing as well, making comments and jokes at my expense.”

“And I hope you told them to mind their damn business”. Liv smirked. The tension in Barba's shoulders lessened visibly as he laughed at Liv's snide remark.

“Look, I’ve known you long enough to know that you will do what you want regardless of any advice I give you,” Liv started, raising her eyebrows in a jokey manner when the lawyer attempted to refute that statement, “but hear me out on this.”

“The way I see it, you have two options. The first is you cut back on what you eat and join a gym. Ask Sonny to do it with you, I don’t know. All the typical things people do to lose weight.” she stated firmly.

Barba did his best to resist the urge to roll his eyes. After all, Liv had made a valid point. It's the same sort of thing his mother and doctor had been saying for years. All of it made perfect sense to Barba - if he could get into Harvard he could understand basic nutrition - he just didn’t want to hear it. Due to the nature of his job, he got very little downtime as it was.

Barba couldn't imagine anything worse than spending that precious time in a stuffy, sweaty, windowless box full of equipment he wouldn't even know where to start with and surrounded people who are 20 years his junior. He'd never forget the judging looks he'd got from men built like Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson himself for the way his chest and stomach jiggled when he had attempted to run on a treadmill a few years ago. He would much rather spend an evening watching a film with Sonny, eating a majority of the snacks they were supposed to "share", and getting a belly rub from the blonde when his stomach began to ache. Not to mention that a gym membership would be another monthly expense to account for. That being on top of the initial expense of new workout clothes, as he was pretty sure that while lycra had a stretchy property to it, asking it to stretch to accommodate the extra 20 pounds or so he had gained since the clothes last outing might be an unreasonable request. As for his scotch and food, except for Sonny, they were the only pleasures left in his life.

“….Or,” Liv began, tilting her head and talking in a lower voice, “you can accept that you aren’t 20 anymore and buy a few new suits to tide you over until you can afford to replace the old ones.”

“Says the woman that still looks as good as ever.” Barba smiled as he finished his drink. Leaning back in his seat, his chest had loosed and the anger he had previously harboured had seemingly subsided. He still felt vulnerable and overexposed, but he was at least content enough to joke with the Lieutenant opposite him.

Liv let out a short, sharp laugh. “We both know that you aren’t the only one who has gained a few pounds.”

“Please, hardly anything compared to me.” He patted his stomach gently for emphasis, no longer feeling as bothered by the way the flesh rippled under his hand.

“Got me there counsellor,” she conceded, raising her arms in mock surrender as they both smirked. Her tone remained brazen as she returned to the point she was making. “All I’m saying is that you have never cared what anyone has thought about you so far, so why start now?”

Barba watched as her eyes flicked over to the empty plates littering the table. She pointed one of her fingers at the display and said, “You realise, if you get serious about losing weight, this is going to have to stop this too?”

“I know. I know.” Barba rolled his eyes once again.

“And in all the time we’ve been friends, the only exercise I remember you doing is when you took up running, when was that, like 2 years ago?” Liv's smile now radiated across her face, her eyes lighting up as the small wrinkles at either side of them become more prominent.

“Yeah.” Barba nodded. The blush from earlier found its way back to his cheeks, though a playful smile dusted his lips this time around.

“And that only lasted a month!” Liv laughed lightly. “I still remember Sonny’s reaction when Amanda told us what you were wearing.”

“The blue running gear?” Barba couldn't keep the shock from his tone. He had hoped that no one remembered that outfit. Of course, as per usual, he had underestimated the capabilities of the squad down at SVU. Given that they could remember the key facts from cases even years old, he supposed that a story about him wearing tight-fitting running gear would be practically etched into their brains.

“With the skin-tight black leggings that left _nothing_ to the imagination. When Amanda told us all, I thought Sonny was going to faint!” At Liv last comment, even the cold-hearted ADA was laughing. _That sure did sound like Sonny_ , he thought, ignoring the pang of guilt that rose at the mention of the detective's name.

As their laughter gave way to gleeful smiles, Liv sighed. “Raf. You are a snarky, grumpy and vain middle-aged man who has so many mood swings at times, I’m surprised you don’t have whiplash.”

“I’m waiting for the but!” Barba interrupted, though a smile twinged at the corner of his mouth.

“And… You’ve managed to find a man that loves you, not despite of all that, but because of it. So what if he likes you… with, you know, _a bit extra_? There's worse kinks out there, trust me on that one.” Benson added the last sentence when she noticed Barba begin to open his mouth. He took the warning, though that didn't stop an amused look crossing his face.

Satisfied that he wouldn't ask for her to elaborate, she continued, "I’ve known you long enough to know that you hate dieting. And as much as watching you tear through perps while 'hangry' is entertaining, the whole squad also ends up on the receiving end of your temper as well. Why do you think there's always a fresh box of doughnuts sitting on the side when one of them mucks something up?"  

Benson smirked, while a similar but significantly more flush expression was mirrored on Barba's face. While it retained its comforting effect, Liv's expression became more serious as she leant forward. “If happiness costs a trip to the tailors, let your pride take a hit. Allow yourself to be happy, Rafi. You’ve waited long enough.”

If he hadn't known Liv's preferences in men, he would have guessed she also had a thing for larger guys, the way she seemed to be encouraging him to keep the weight. But no. Between Sonny and Rita, he already had more than enough chubby chasers in his life. He wasn't sure his waistline couldn't take many more.

After his initial reservations, he was happy that the Lieutenant had been so persistent in her questioning. Talking to Liv had helped to clarify a lot of things. Bring things into focus and prioritising matters. Liv had always had a knack for doing that but after over a decade in SVU, Barba supposed that it was only natural. He still had a lot to mull over yet, new _thoughts and feelings_ to explore and his relationship to repair, but that could be dealt with later. Right now, he had to focus his attention on the case.

“I mean, that’s what Sonny is doing all the overtime for, isn't it?” Liv added as she leant back in her seat, her tone recapturing that of the playful nature of their earlier conversation.

However, instead of smiling back, Barba's face seemed to display an expression of confusion, as his head tilted slightly to the right. "Sorry, what?"

The detective seems a bit mystified by his reaction, shrugging the corners of her mouth for a moment. Proceeding cautiously, Liv explained “the extra hours Sonny's agreed to? I presumed you already kn-”

“Ah, yes, of course. He told me about it briefly the other day.” He lied, smiling up at Liv.

She didn't seem completely convinced by his response and took a second to study his expression but clearly chose not to press the matter further, simply smiling weakly as she nodded before getting up to leave. Barba remained seated as she stood, still not entirely comfortable with the idea of moving yet.

“Better pull yourself together, Counsellor," Benson instructed, giving a playful poke to his stomach before he had the time to react. The action lasted less than a second but her finger sunk in further than he, and judging by her expression, Benson expected. "You're needed back in court in less than half hour.” He had to admit, he was impressed she's delivered that line without faltering. 20 minutes ago, he had bitten Sonny's head off for simply glancing at his stomach. Now, however, he simply raised a questioning eyebrow at Liv as a small smirk dusted both of their faces.

Gauging that it was simply meant as a friendly gesture, he chose not to address it. “Thank you Liv," he said softly, looking up at her with pure sincerity clear in his features. Fearing she would miss construe it, he continued "What you said-”

“I know.” she interrupted. The two maintained eye contact for a few brief moments, Barba conveying more gratitude in those fleeting seconds than his vanity would ever allow him to in words. Liv was the first to break eye contact, patting him on the shoulder as she turned to leave.

Deciding against ordering more food, he was attempting to catch the attention of one of the waiters to request the check, when he heard “Oh, and Barba.” Turning back, he saw Liv, a few paces from him, looking over her shoulder.

“It suits you.”  

She was already making her way across the dining area before he'd even had a chance to process what she said. He simply watched as she manoeuvred her way around the tables, apologising to diners as she went, and exited the restaurant. Looking down at himself, clothes straining to contain his overly-full midsection, he couldn't help but chuckle.

He supposed it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this Chapter wasn't too long. Not sure when I will have Chapter 4 out, as I think I want to write some one-shots before I begin work on it. But yes, thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day :)


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